


Keep Me Safe

by anemic_cinema



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Andrea is trans, F/F, Femslash, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Trans Female Character, Transmisogyny, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrea doesn't know if she's safe around Michonne yet, but is willing to hope for the best.</p>
<p>CW: brief reference to Andrea being subject to transmisogyny, hormone withdrawal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Me Safe

By now Andrea knows the litany by heart. Estradiol, Provera, Spiro. She knows exactly how much and when, which one does what she needs. After ten years it's not so much a regimen but just another aspect of being alive. It's like breathing, automatic and imprinted subconsciously. 

'Estradiol, Provera, Spiro.' This is the litany that won't leave her brain, because she needs to find them. Now. Preferably yesterday, but now will do. She'd managed to keep a sizable stash with her, but all of that was left on the farm. Andrea had counted and recounted the pills. If she was careful, she would have had enough for at least a year, if she spaced out the doses to the absolute minimum. Cold turkey is not an option. She knows the facts and the stories. Women like her being deprived of the things they needed to survive, choosing to kill or mutilate themselves because not having the hormones plunged them into a nightmare that most people couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Andrea isn't going to let that happen to her. If it takes the most extreme measures, she's going to survive. Walkers are nothing compared to this. She'd gladly face a horde of them if it means getting back her hormones. 

There is another problem though. Michonne. She saved her life, but in Andrea's mind that does not guarantee her continued safety. She managed to hide it from everyone else at the quarry and the farm. Except for Amy. Gone. Except for Shane. Who knows what happened to him. Amy kept quiet out of love. Shane kept quiet out of his own shame of having been with her. Whatever. She'd take any kind of silence on the subject, even if it was based on the fact that he was disgusted with having fooled around with her. 

He'd enjoyed it while it happened, but during the drive back to the farm, Andrea had seen the change in his mind happen. The realization that he'd just touched a trans woman, a woman who wasn't “real” in his mind. Basically, as far as he was concerned, he'd fooled around with a man. Andrea hated him for thinking that, and hated herself a little bit for having thought that it would be ok, that he wouldn't care. She'd been with enough men and women to know that most of the time, if they were cis, they inevitably acted one of two ways. Either they were way too into the fact that she was a trans woman, or they were repulsed by it. Few and far between had been the individuals who'd loved her and taken her as she was, with no hesitation and with open hearts.

She kept thinking that it was her fault for being so foolish. The logical part of her brain told her that thinking that was foolish, but it didn't stop her from going around and around, cursing herself for having initiated that, and cursing Shane for disappointing her with his revulsion.

That was over now. Now she has to worry about Michonne. They have to stay close together, there's no chance for her to run off into a pharmacy, not yet anyways. So Andrea plans, and tries to think of how much longer she has until the withdrawal gets too bad. She'd taken a dose the morning before the farm fell. It had been two days since that, and already she could feel the iron grip of depression creep along her spine, and the physical symptoms start to kick in. Headaches, stomach cramps, feeling so dizzy that she'd actually almost fainted in front of Michonne while they were searching through a store for supplies. 

She'd been picking through bags of rice, trying to find some that hadn't been infested with vermin, when a dizzy spell had hit her. Andrea had been dealing with it on and off for the past day, but it got bad all of a sudden. Still gripping onto the metal shelf, her knees had buckled and she fell with a clatter of metal and dry goods. Michonne had rushed over, leaving her pets by the canned goods. 

“You ok? Hey, blondie, you ok?”

She'd sounded actually worried. Whether it was out of genuine concern for her being, or just because she didn't want to deal with dead weight, Andrea hadn't been sure. 

“I'm ok. Just got dizzy.” Andrea sat up and held her head between her hands. She still felt woozy.

“Here, drink some water. Are you hungry?” Michonne held out her canteen, and Andrea took it. She took a small sip for show. It helped a tiny bit. 

“No, I'm good, just gimme a minute.” Andrea took a deep breath, and drank down another gulp of water. 

“Ok.” Michonne went back to grabbing supplies, occasionally looking back at the sitting woman. When it came time to go, Michonne carried Andrea's bag of supplies. It was a kind gesture, and the blonde thanked her. 

**

The small town that they'd come across had one small pharmacy, and Andrea suggested they go in before setting up camp. Michonne saw the wisdom in it, and acquiesced. The place had been well looted, and even the prescription drugs had been well cleaned out. She looked through the pills, gathering painkillers and antibiotics, things that Michonne would think were useful. Then she found it. Premarin. The glorious hormone pill derived from the urine of pregnant mares. She grabbed all the boxes left. No spiro, or provera, but this would take care of the withdrawal, and at least stabilize her hormones.

She took the blister packs out of the boxes, and shoved them into the pockets of her jacket. It would do for now. It was funny, because before all of this, Andrea could never afford the stuff. Granted, her insurance had been terrible and hadn't considered it a necessity. But now, she could take all she wanted for free. This was perhaps the first positive thing that had happened to her in months. 

**

So that's how Andrea finds herself with the blister packs laid out in front of her, counting pills and trying to figure out how to make them last. Half a dose might be enough to avoid the worst symptoms of withdrawal, so she decides on that course of action. She cuts a pill in half with the pocket knife Michonne's given her, swallows half, and tucks the remaining bit back in the blister pack. She's about to hide the rest away in her bag when Michonne comes in bearing an open can of baked beans.

“Managed to heat it up over the fire.” She notices the pills, and Andrea's brain goes into overtime, searching for a good explanation.

“Are you sick?” Michonne frowns.

“No. It's-it's hormone replacement therapy.”

“Aren't you kinda young to be going through menopause?”

Just Andrea's luck to end up paired up with a perceptive kind of woman. “Yeah, it's early onset.”

“Is that why you almost fainted?” Michonne hands her the can. There's a spoon in it. 

“Yeah, it's a real bitch.” Andrea tucks her pills away and starts to eat. Michonne looks concerned though. “Don't worry, I can handle it. You don't have to worry about me being a burden.”

Michonne sighs. “That wasn't why I asked.” She leaves her to eat alone, and Andrea regrets having come across as so callous. 

**

Things improve little by little. The nasty symptoms fade away, but Andrea still worries. She used to be whole-heartedly against living a stealthy kind of life. Although, she recognizes now that she could afford that kind of attitude because she had things like job security and a stable place to live. Now there is no stability or security, and she has to rely on a stranger so that she might survive to the next day. 

Michonne said she could trust her. But Andrea's still not so sure about that. Anyone who has the wherewithal to mutilate two walkers and tow them along like dogs is not someone the blonde would want to mess with.

But, like with her health, thing between her and Michonne get better, more comfortable. Michonne tells her about the life she had before, about her boyfriend, and about her son. Andrea tells her about Amy and Dale. She tells her about her work as a civil rights lawyer. She drops little hints, like saying she mostly worked with trans women who'd been harassed or attacked.

“That's real cool that you did that. I mean, Jesus, talk about a group of people who gets messed with too much.”

Michonne's reaction is encouraging. The next day, when they're talking about their past love lives, Andrea casually mentions a girlfriend that she had.

“I knew it!” Michonne laughs.

“What?”

“Well, lets just say I kinda figured you weren't straight.” 

“Howso?” Andrea shifts the backpack on her shoulders.

“No straight woman's ever looked at my ass like you do.” Andrea's cheeks flush, and Michonne just laughs more at her embarrassment. “It's cool. I don't mind. I'm not straight either, so it's all good.” 

The blonde wishes she could be more subtle when checking people out, but the way Michonne smiles makes her feel better. When she smiles her cheeks look so damn cute. It's a nicer look on her than the serious expression she usually wears. Not that she doesn't always look totally amazing. 

**

Then it happens. It's Michonne who starts it, sidling up to her all sweet, smiling at her in the light of their little lantern. Andrea blames it on the fact that the both of them are hyped up on adrenaline. That afternoon they'd run into some walkers. Michonne had cut them down like they were nothing, and Andrea had done what she could with the crowbar she'd picked up along the way. They'd been left breathless and sweaty, and when Andrea had looked over at Michonne, their eyes had met in a way that countless others had before. They exchanged the kind of gaze that led to only one thing: sweaty, desperate touching. The blonde wasn't sure what to do now. As much as she was attracted to the other woman, angry rejection seemed like it was the only way it would go down.

“You really handled yourself well today.” Michonne is so close to her, and she's so warm. It could be so easy, but Andrea knows it probably isn't.

“Thanks. I'm not at good as you though.”

Michonne scoffs. “Don't be so down on yourself.” Her hand rests next to Andrea's, and her little finger rests over the blonde's. Andrea pulls her hand away, and Michonne looks disappointed.

“Sorry, I won't bug you no more.” She moves away and it feels worse than when Shane had looked at her with contempt after he was done with her on the hood of that car. 

“No, I'm sorry, it's just..it's not you, it's me.”

“I just thought you were interested.” Michonne is trying to keep composed, but she's obviously wounded. 

“I am!” Andrea takes a breath. “It's just, you might not be interested in a woman like me.”

Michonne looks confused. “What do you know about what kinds of women I like.”

“Most people don't like trans women.” Andrea braces herself, but Michonne doesn't say anything. She just looks at her.

“Andrea, that don't matter to me. At all.” She shakes her head as she says it, her dreadlocks bouncing on her shoulders. “If it did, d'you think I'd have stuck with you?”

The blonde studies her hands. She doesn't know what to say now. Michonne scoots back a little closer. “I'm sorry I didn't make you feel safe.”

“You did. It's just, after a while, you get into the habit of expecting the worst from people. Believe me, I've been given plenty of reasons to be this way.”

“I can believe that.” Michonne looks at her, smiling gently. “But you can trust me.”

“Can I?”

“If I can trust you, I'd think so. If not, I'm gonna have to earn that won't I?”

That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever told Andrea. 

**

After that night, the way Michonne acts towards Andrea only changes a few aspects. She speaks to her in a gentler, sweeter tone. She finds her little treats, like chocolate bars and bags of chips. One morning, Andrea wakes up to find a couple of apples by her sleeping bag. Michonne found a tree with fruit still on it, and even though they're small and gnarly looking, they taste sweet. It's like she's trying to court Andrea, and Andrea is starting to like it. 

So Andrea tries to do the same for her. She brings her bags of M&Ms, finds her a blue sweatshirt that's good and warm, and shoelaces for her boots when her old ones become too frayed. Every time she gives something to Michonne, the other woman's face lights up so pretty, and it makes her heart feel so warm. It makes her feel safe. Not a whole lot of people have managed to do that for her. 

**

The days grow short and cold, and Andrea and Michonne huddle together in the darkness. Out of necessity, they start to share a sleeping bag. It conserves body heat, allows them to use the remaining sleeping bag as an extra blanket, and it feels good. Falling asleep cuddled up to each other is one of the few comforts that they have. Sometimes when Andrea wakes up before the other woman she thinks of pressing a kiss against her cheek, or her lips. Michonne has the most beautiful lips. The blonde has always had a soft spot for people with pretty lips.

Every morning Andrea thinks about doing it, until Michonne does it for her. Andrea wakes up to Michonne stroking her cheek. She doesn't say anything, just smiles at the other woman. Michonne then leans in and presses her mouth against Andrea's. The kiss is soft, sweet, and over too quick. It makes the blonde's heart beat so fast that she feels it in her throat.

“Good morning.” Michonne tells her, smiling shyly. 

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” Andrea inches closer.

“Since I first met you pretty much.” 

If it's possible for all your skin to blush at once, that's how Andrea's skin feels like right now. “I meant today. How long have you been awake?” 

“Not long.” Michonne puts an arm around Andrea and pulls her close. The blonde rests her head against the other woman's neck, hesitantly pressing a kiss against it. Michonne sighs happily.

“This is nice.” 

“Yeah.” Andrea keeps giving Michonne's neck little kisses before she starts to work her way up. After waiting and worrying that this would go wrong, she can't resist it anymore. Not when Michonne is making those soft noises every time she kisses her. 

When she reaches the other woman's lips, the kisses aren't so little or gentle anymore. They kiss with a newfound ferocity, hungry for each other's affection. Michonne's hand slides down the blonde's arm, and Andrea wants her hands all over her. She moves her own hands down the sides of Michonne's neck to her chest, right above her breasts.

“You can keep going.” Michonne breathes out before kissing her again. Andrea's hands don't wait to be told again, neither do Michonne's. The blonde's hands slip under the other woman's shirt. It starts to get too hot under the sleeping bags for the two of them, so they push them off. The air is cold inside the abandoned building where they've been camping out lately, and Andrea feels Michonne's nipples go stiff. She pulls the other woman's shirt up, and kisses them through her thin, washed-too- many-times bra. 

“God, please-” Michonne runs her hands through Andrea's hair, undoing her ponytail so it hangs loose, “-need more.” 

Andrea looks up at her. Self-doubt hits her hard, but the other woman is looking at her with those big brown eyes, and is biting her bottom lip, and keeps moving into her touch. The blonde reaches under Michonne and unclasps her bra. Her breasts are so pretty. Andrea can see faded stretch marks on the tops of them, so she kisses and licks at them. Michonne's skin tastes faintly of lotion. Andrea found some for her during their last supply run. 

The blonde's tongue traces lazy circles around Michonne's dark brown nipples, her saliva cooling rapidly in the winter morning air. Pleading noises sound out from the other woman, and Andrea feels a point of pride in how good she's making Michonne feel. 

“Andrea-” The blonde likes how Michonne whimpers out her name, “I want you to fuck me. Oh God, I wanna fuck you.” Michonne's hand reaches down and stroke's Andrea's stomach. The blonde pauses, a little afraid of what could happen next despite the fact that Michonne knows all about her. She rises up to kiss Michonne, allowing her to place her hand between her legs. The lack of androgen blockers means her cock actually got a little hard as she was lavishing the other woman with affection. Michonne pets her tentatively through her jeans. 

“How do you want me to touch you?” She asks, looking at the blonde with an earnest look in her eyes.

Andrea sighs and buries her face against Michonne's neck.

“What's the matter?” The woman underneath her stops petting her.

“I just want you to touch me. I don't want this to be a long conversation.” Andrea feels so damn frustrated at the situation. “I know you're trying to be considerate, but I haven't been with someone is so long, I just need to be fucked.” She holds onto Michonne tight, and the other woman strokes the nape of her neck. “Please, just fuck me, I'll tell you if you do something wrong.” She smiles a little, and raises her head to kiss the other woman. “Though as far as I'm concerned you can do no wrong.” 

Michonne giggles. It's such a good sound to hear, it makes Andrea feel at ease. “I had no idea you held me in such high esteem.” She rolls the both of them onto their sides, and unbuttons her pants. “Now lets get back to the matter at hand.” It's a bad joke, but it makes Andrea snort. 

“Ok.” Michonne kicks off her pants, and Andrea follows suit tossing off her shirt and pants, but keeps her underwear on. The other woman doesn't question it, instead she just lays her hand flat against the front of it, moving her palm in little circles. The blonde lets out a sigh of pleasure at the touch, and reaches down between Michonne's legs. Her fingers slip between the plump lips of her cunt, and move up and down over her clit. Michonne kisses her hard, bringing their bodies closer. Andrea moves one of her legs between the other woman's legs, and presses her groin against her thigh. She moves her fingers in a steady rhythm, and grinds against Michonne's thigh. Their kisses are interrupted only by sighs, moans, and frequent giggles. It feels so good to be with each other like this that laughter is the only logical reaction. 

Michonne cums with a shivery little moan, her cunt pulsing sweetly under Andrea's fingers. She pushes Andrea onto her back with a wicked smile. 

“Your turn now.”

She presses her groin against Andrea's and grinds and rubs against her until Andrea is panting like she's out of breath and grabbing onto her arms like she needs the support even though she's the one on her back.

Michonne can't stop grinning. “God, you look good underneath me.”

Andrea whimpers, and the orgasm that Michonne draws out of her easily rates in the top ten orgasms she's had in her life, right below the time her and her first girlfriend fooled around in the back of her car. Michonne lays on top of her, nuzzling and kissing her breasts, then her throat, then her lips. But the wet patch on the front of her underwear is getting cold and sticky, and it doesn't feel comfortable.

With an apology, she gets up and grabs her bag. She pulls off her dirty underwear and slips on a less dirty pair. Even though she likes Michonne a lot, she doesn't feel comfortable being naked in front of her yet. She's not ashamed of her body, but her relationship with it is troubled at times. She has no qualms about what it is, a woman's body, but other people don't always get that. They assume that just because her genitals look a certain way, her whole identity should be a certain way.

“You better get back here quick, you're gonna freeze your cute little butt off.” Michonne calls out to her, patting the space besides her in the sleeping bag. 

“Little? I think it's a perfectly good size.” Andrea scurries back into the warmth of the sleeping bags and Michonne's arms.

“For a white girl, maybe.” Andrea smacks her arm but giggles along with her. 

They don't bother getting up until they start to get hungry, which ends up being around noon. Not that it matters to either of them, not when they're safe with each other.


End file.
